Every Life Begins in Sin

Every life begins in sin

Every life begins in sin
Every soul a prisoner of debt within.
Every day a darkened abyss
Every moment a followers bliss.

Every morning, no rhyme or reason,
In every mind a purpose obscured,
Every thought of darkness appeased them,
And Every night a verdict of treason.

Every people a carbon copy, every soul a slave that mocks me.
Every birth a tragedy scrolled
Every union and covenant, a poison untold.
In every intent of the mind and the soul.

Every life begins in the pit,
and all their truths of cowardly wit.
Every page and every book masquerading the choices they took.
Vivid are the follies of all who partook.

So is there a place where the crooked made straight,
And where is the place which no one abates?
Yet none would dare show me where the scapegoat was hung,
Only placid covered lullabies and futility’s love songs.

So he led me to the place where wisdom did cry,
and made plain a place where no sin abides?
Then brought me to the place where the death toll begins,
then show me the life that put an end to my sin.

As he showed me the scapegoat and where the death toll begins,
Does it meet someone greater to give this pardon within.
Did the pit and the prisoner both meet their end,
Did the soul of the slave find its freedom again?